


But I Do Not Cage Love

by Byacolate



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Light Angst, Past Kana Rua/Watcher, Past Relationship(s), Wild Orlan Watcher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: “When I am one of your stories, how will you tell it?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fragments in time between a tiny Watcher and a handsome fish.

“Shall I tell you a tale of my own?”

 

Her bare toes wiggled in his lap as she reclined over the cushions on her bed. Tekēhu wiped his lower lip of crownfruit juice and sucked it from his thumb. The Watcher’s fingers strummed over old lute strings in lazy accompaniment to the evening shiprock.

 

“Please. Tell me your tales, spirit weaver - I am long due for audienceship.”

 

His loins stirred in anticipation of the Watcher’s exploits. Her furred thighs spread a little to accommodate the lute and Tekēhu’s wandering hand.

 

“A thousand brigands or more would give an arm and an ear to know my greatest weaknesses. So treasure the secret of chiefest among them. Hold it close to your chest.” She paused for effect, and so he leaned forward a spare few inches. 

 

“Ekera, your greatest weakness,” he encouraged with a squeeze to her naked thigh. She grinned. It was a strange sort. 

 

“Artists.”

 

The soft melody that hummed from the lute quickened, and with it Tekēhu's excitable pulse. 

 

“Let me tell you of the poet who had my heart in the Dyrwood.” 

 

The heady scent of her favored incense, once foreign to Tehēku’s nose, coiled and crept about the room like a friendly cat. It was nearly as comforting as the scent of her pipe herbs, but there was no pipe between her lips now, and none at all in the past few hours… perhaps save Tekēhu's.

 

“Our meeting was serendipitous. I saw him at the walls of Caed Nua, or could be he saw me. It was probably me doing the seeing; it's hard to miss an aumaua - another weakness of mine.” Which made him feel perfectly smug until: “Rauataian.” 

 

Well… it could have been worse. Somehow. 

 

“He was in such high spirits, all the time. Brimming with curiosity and song. Sometimes both. A chanter, and a good one. The soul of the poet in the body of a goliath.” She sighed, and the look in her eyes grew distant. “I see him often still in Maia’s face.”

 

Tekēhu hesitated. “Because… she is also Rauatai?” The Watcher’s bizarre look sent his brain a-whirl, rifling through all he knew of Maia Rua. He snagged upon a muzzy memory of a conversation or two and felt his face flush. “Ah. Because they are siblings.”

 

Her smile was fond, but it was not all for Tekēhu. This did not feel like a particularly stimulating tale, so Tekēhu’s hand drifted from her thigh to her furry calf. “Was he beautiful?”

 

“He was  _ vibrant _ .” She strummed a melancholy chord before it lifted to a soft ditty. “Laughing eyes. A radiant smile. He played the most beautiful music.”

 

“This is not how one speaks of a tryst,” Tekēhu warmly noted. “And if it is, you are wildly under-representing the bounty of his endowments and how they fared with yours.”

 

She quieted for a moment. “You have my apologies, for this tale is not a stirring sort. Shall I stop?”

 

“I hope that you do not, I say.”

 

She must have seen truth in his face, for she melted back into the story as though it were shadow. “No, ours was not… We saw much together. We traveled for many months, and we were close. But Kana saw little before him that was not a verse or the next great discovery.” She stopped playing for a moment, drawing her fingers up and down the strings. “It didn't matter. I cared for him quite deeply. It was enough to see him… not content, I think, but happy.” And her fingers set to dancing again, a gust of a laugh puffing from her chest. “I don't think Kana would appreciate the feeling of  _ contentedness _ even of he found it.”

 

“He left Caed Nua, then.” She nodded, and he mirrored her, smoothing down the meddlesome coils of his hair. “Ekera, and if he had stayed…?”

 

“I don't know. He did not.” Her head thumped the wall behind as she leaned back to stare at the ceiling. “When we can, we hold those which we love close. For as long as they allow.” The lute’s cheeriness seemed discordant against her mood, but there was a quiet smile on her face when she glanced up at Tekēhu. “But I do not cage love or force it to be anything but itself. What do we have in this world if not our freedom to ourselves?”

 

He sat pensive for much of the evening after her tale was told, listening with both ears as she played a steady anthem.  _ The Lover Cried Out to the Beloved: I am Yours... _


	2. Chapter 2

“When I am one of your stories, how will you tell it?”

 

Tekēhu took his eyes from the sea where the sunlight dappled upon Her glittering waters. The Watcher sat perched on the rail, though the boat tossed upon the waves; it was with a swell of pride that he knew that _she_ knew she had nothing to fear when he was close by. That… or she was an excellent swimmer. 

 

“I had not given it thought.” Tekēhu considered it - this future where the Watcher was but a memory to revisit with a willing ear - and found himself less than perfectly pleased. A feeling like longing fluttered its wings against his lungs. “It would be flattering, I say.”

 

The wind whipped up, nearly plucking the tricorn from her ears. He reached out to anchor it until the breeze passed. Indulging in his impulses, Tekēhu dropped his hand to her furred chin, tipping her head just so until the sun's rays glinted off of her eyes. “Strangest and smallest among my heart's callings. A Watcher of a castle worlds away. A god-chaser, hailed by all and beholden to none, who has the ear of kith and gods alike.

 

“Ekera, I would say that she was sharp of wit and teeth, and that her eyes were as jewels plucked from the mosaic of the gods. Her words were as gunsmoke, powerful.  _ Intoxicating _ . And when I pressed my face to her fur just so -” he leaned down, tipping her chin up to nose at her neck, “she always smelled of fresh herbs.”

 

The Watcher nodded in his grasp, her eyes as sharp as Ngati’s teeth when Tekēhu pulled away. “And,” she murmured, her voice low between them, “what of the state of her tits?”

 

The laugh startled from him was so mighty that it startled the gulls from the rigging, sending them flying off over the sea. Later, Chitupec would thank him for it.

 

"I would say she led me through deep waters," he lamented, smoothing a hand over his hair before tentatively, he went on to say - "and... ekera, that she leads me still."

 

The look in her eye was as one of Wael's great mysteries, but she did not spurn the notion. 

 

It was Tekēhu's to savor for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a high fantasy comic about a wandering bard! [Check it out from the beginning HERE!](https://bardbouquet.tumblr.com/post/179195348759/a-dwarven-heirloom-a-blade-in-the-dark-and-a)
> 
> My Tumblr: [wardencommando](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).  
> Inquire about fic reque$t$ [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/ask)  
> 


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